Competencies that Count

Clay figures by Eak

This is day seven in a twelve day jet lag recovery.  (Estimates are one day of recovery for each hour time difference.)  This is the second summer where I have had the good gift of retreating to the cottage for this inevitable process of adjustment, something that does not seem to get any easier with frequency, but is unquestionably easier when done in unscheduled seclusion.

As usual, these days are full of processing.  Even more so when I’ve traveled with a Team and haven’t really had the head space to do any of it ‘on the ground in real time’.   It was a great trip with a great Team, and that means we were busy.  Day trips to see the surrounding culture, outings with the kids, reading and reading and reading, and of course the ESL and Bible lessons every evening.   We had just a touch of a common traveller’s sickness, but had medicine on hand and the flexibility of schedule to make that a small thing in comparison to all that was gained by our time there.

So by the time I’m back, processing and thinking and making lists for ‘next time’, I’m doing my usual personal assessment of the give and take of each trip.  What did we gain?  What did we leave behind?

It’s the second question that has preoccupied me in these first seven days back.  As a Team, and more pointedly, myself as this missionary-pastor person I am now - how did we do?  How did we serve?  Were our contributions meaningful?  How competent were we, was I, in the ways we hoped to minister to the children, to Pastors Suradet and Yupa, to the dear members at Hot Springs Church?  

It’s a fair question.  With five people coming for a visit, there is a significant disruption factor in the day to day lives of our hosts.  Extra work, extra planning, extra driving, extra energy.  Did we make it worthwhile?

It’s a fair question.  But it’s a question I ask very differently now than I did that first trip in February 2008.  Back then, ministry competency, having maximum impact through our combined skill set, (read: MY skill set) was all that mattered to me as the leader of a seven person Team out on a MISSIONS TRIP!!!  How important that sounded then (especially with the echo effect).

By now, the harsh lessons of soul-deconstruction so mercifully pounded into me eleven years ago, have redirected my assessment dramatically.  Now I’m asking a different question.

How did we love?

How did I love?

It’s the better question of ministry effectiveness.  Because love is, after all, the main thing.

So in the essence of that better question, it seemed perhaps a helpful exercise to take some liberty and paraphrase 1 Corinthians 13 according to how love might be made the priority in Thai culture and our interaction there.  

For any Team member, of this most recent trip or any in the past, or for anyone considering joining in on the future, I offer this with the humility of having ‘first preached it to myself’ and with the promise to work through all that the Spirit painfully revealed to me through this exercise.   If it prompts any response in your own heart, my prayer is that this will be only enriching and helpful, even if something pinches.  Not necessarily my intention, but I know that the Holy Spirit often works that way, so I'll cover myself with the disclaimer :).

Here goes.  1 Corinthians 13 Thai style.

If I speak Thai fluently without even the hint of an accent, and all my Thai friends understand me perfectly and praise my linguistic accomplishment, and I impress all my other Team members, but I am more focused on showing off than listening to and loving the people I’m in conversation with, then I’m nothing more than a hollow bell or mournful temple gong. 

If I have the gift of a Western education and can teach or sing or play an instrument with impressive technical precision, and I am invited to participate in every service and time of worship, but this ends up making me feel and act superior, and by default my Thai friends feel inferior, and I fail to communicate my love and appreciation for all that these people can teach me and how they serve me, then no one really gains anything and so what do my credentials even count for?

If I have faith enough to travel to mountains on the other side of the world, and I’m brave enough to take risks and face the specific kinds of dangers of this strange exotic place, but I’m motivated by trying to impress everyone, or by self-fulfillment, or self-actualization, or anything at all self-related instead of self-denying love, then I’m nothing.

If I give until it hurts, sharing from my abundant resources to help alleviate the suffering of the poor, and even go so far as to put myself in harm’s way, sacrificing my physical health, but I don’t do any of this out of an actual compassion for people in need, then nobody wins.  

Love is patient enough to wait to be acknowledged in the room, or stay engaged in a bilingual conversation until understanding is achieved and consensus is found, or to be served last, or wait to be offered something rather than ask for it, or go back to that government office for the seventh completely unnecessary time.

Love is kind enough to notice the subtle signs of sadness on a Thai (or ‘farang’ face), or to make sure photos are inclusive, or to sincerely thank those who have been in any way inconvenienced on one’s behalf, or to walk at the pace of the slowest person in the group, or to refrain from spending too much at the markets even with such cheap prices, knowing that our hosts have so little disposable income.

Love does not envy the attention others may receive or the ‘place in the story’ others may have in a culture that values family narrative. 

It does not talk so much about oneself, in fact, doesn’t talk too much at all, and certainly doesn’t presume a special status with special treatment (especially being white, even though that’s a thing).

It is careful to honour those older than and in authority over oneself, even when ‘at home’ this would seem unnecessary and even a little ‘over the top.’

It does not participate in behaviours meant to gain attention, does not insist that one’s own needs be met, always looking instead for ways to meet the practical and emotional needs of others.  

Love does not find humour in anything that demeans or insults others, is not sarcastic, is careful not to use ‘inside jokes’ to the exclusion of others. 

It does not demonstrate anger in public, but in the spirit of ‘gingjai’ maintains composure and grace always.  

It is willing to overlook small annoyances of living together in close quarters in a different culture and climate, aware that grace is a needed component of serving God together in any circumstance.

Love does not let fear, arrogance, personal agendas or one’s ‘shadow-mission’, factor into the cross-cultural experience, but instead seeks to be open, selfless, honest, and Spirit-led.

It always protects the most vulnerable, always trusts God’s plans and purposes, always hopes for shalom in the face of suffering, always perseveres with tenacity in this joy-work we are privileged to do with these incredible people.

Love never fails to make our time there a profoundly meaningful way to serve.

Love is the only ‘competency’ that counts.